


What Are You Waiting For

by postfrom1776



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/F, Recording, Sad, heather c fell hard for Veronica, no happy ending, videotape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfrom1776/pseuds/postfrom1776
Summary: After Heather’s death, Veronica uncover a mysterious videotape with her name written on it. What will this reveal to the girl is more than it appears.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	What Are You Waiting For

It was the day after her funeral. Veronica, Duke and Mcnamara had chosen to pack Heather Chandler’s possessions to give them away.

They stepped in the room, who had been clean by the policemen and whose carpet had been thrown out and Veronica’s stomach twisted as she found herself standing in the same spot she did when Heather died. She felt sick, but she swallowed hard and made it pass. Anyway, Mcnamara was already looking like she was going to tear up any moment, so that should redirect the attention on her instead of on Veronica.

They had brought cardboard box and the two remaining Heathers started to empty the drawers, filled with fancy dress shirt and skirts from famous brands.

Veronica attacked the wardrobe, well furnished in various dresses, skirts and blazers and who’s floor was lined with heels, flats, sandals, and pristine boots. She took a first dress of the clothing hanger, red, obviously and folded it in the box, carefully to make as little creases as possible.

She proceeded to repeat those steps, on autopilot to try to make herself forget that it was all her fault that Heather was gone. It was her fault that she had brought JD here and let him put drain cleaner into that damn cup. Guilt was underlying every thought she have had in the last few days, everything reminding her of the horrible action she committed.

She and Heather were friends. Not the best kind, they, of course, were often disagreeing and Chandler was bossing her around all the time in school, but outside of it, she wasn’t that bad.

Veronica and the Heathers have had a few moments when it was just the four of them, and she seemed like a totally different person.

When they played croquet in her yard, they all were just normal teens having fun, except for Chandler and Duke’s bickering, but it almost seemed like it was in a friendly way.

The night they spend together watching horror classics at Mac’s house had been similar to all the sleepovers she had with Betty and Martha.

As she remembered these event, she realized something.

It was performance. Most of it at least. Heather Chandler, the demon queen of Westerberg high was playing nothing but her own role in the play she created.

Of course, she had truly been mad at Veronica when she ridiculed her at the Remington party. She had touched the perfect facade that Chandler took so much time to put up.

She hadn’t killed a monster, or her worst enemy, she had killed her best friend.

She choked on a sob and the other Heathers rushed to her side.

They too were only human. The three girls held each other for a moment , even Duke who always seemed to despise Veronica’s simple presence. They all sat there,on the bedroom floor, until Duke broke apart, wiping her tears.

-“We still have a job to do, we should get back to it” the brunettes voice was exhausted, but firm and the others stood back on their feet to finish packing.

Later, as she was digging at the back of Heather’s wardrobe, Veronica stumbled on a small pink metal box with a sticker on it.

Written in a fancy swirling handwriting was one word.

_Veronica._

Why would Heather have a box with her name on it? She opened it while the others had their back turned, only to find a single videotape.

She was confused, but all pointed to the fact that this cassette was for her, which made her heart twirl with sadness. She took the black rectangle and shoved it promptly in her pocket before closing the metal box and continued to put the shoes in the cardboard one.

In her head, she could hear Heather’s voice saying: “Flats, then pumps and in shades order from dark to light”

It was how the shoes found themselves stacked as she followed Chandler’s way to organize. An hour later, they had put all of Heather’s less personal possessions, like her radio, tv and her clothes in the packaging, ready to give them away.

As the three girls got out of the room, Mrs. Chandler came to help them load Duke’s van, but the women was still as cold as ever. Her daughter died, for God’s sake, though Veronica.

She felt like she was understanding why Heather was so secretive about her family life, it was because it wasn’t necessary a good one.

They drove to Goodwill and gave the possession to the benevolent workers before splitting to get back home.

Duke gave Mcnamara a ride and Veronica walked, breathing in and out the afternoon air, trying to clean her head for all the thought forming in her brain. In her pocket, the mysterious videotape was bouncing with her steps as she got closer to her house.

Not knowing what the recording was intriguing her and she walk faster to answer her questions sooner.

She raced to her room and took the family camera to vision the videotape. As she placed it into it, she breathed slowly, and pressed start.

The small screen lit up, showing a familiar blonde head of curls and two blue eyes. She looked at the objective hesitantly, then started to speak, her voice sounding slightly electronic.

_Hi, it’s September 1,1989, I’m Heather, and this is private, so get the fuck out._

She still had her classic bitchy and assertive tone of voice, but she seemed tired and forcing it, like an actor playing a role they don’t enjoy.

She let out a sigh and looked at her right side before continuing.

_What have I done! I let her into the gang, wow Heather! Power move to get her into your click._

Sarcasm was dripping from her lips during the first half of the monologue, but became more real at the mention of her, Veronica .

Veronica’s eyes were wide, she, greasy little nobody Sawyer was that important to the demon queen of Westerburg High? It was unbelievable.

_Good bone structure, what the hell was that?! Get a grip Chandler! I even got her that super short skirt, now all I can look at is her!_

The blonde was utterly flustered on the screen and Veronica couldn’t help but to feel her cheeks warming up too.

_Anyway, it was just a vent..._

She let out another sigh before starting to fiddle with her hair.

_I’ll probably make more of those, I can feel it in my bones. God why does she have to be so, so, everything! Beautiful, intelligent, with a smart snarky remarks to everything! Fuck! I must make sure nobody ever learn about this._

It was incredibly strange, yet seemed so true. This Heather, trapped in the screen wasn’t lying, it was probably the first time she even was honest with herself.

Veronica felt like crying again, now knowing what Heather truly thought of her, but she kept on watching, hoping the rest would help her clear her mind.

Heather reached for the camera button, the screen turned black and reopened with a different scene. She was in her pyjamas and sitting on her bed instead of in front of her desk.

_We did that note for Martha Dunnstock..._

She had said Dunnstock, not Dumptruck like she always do. The brunettes ears quipped at the mention of her friend and at the fact that for the first time since she knew Heather,she addressed her childhood best friend with an ounce of respect .

_I didn’t really want to do it, even if, let’s face it, Dunnstock ain’t the ideal of grace, but it’s that kind of thing that allows me to stay at the top. Veronica’s right, once again, that poor girl heart is gonna be devastated, and it’s my fault, again. I know you won’t see this, but Martha, I’m so sorry._

Heathers bottom lip started to quiver. She felt regrets, real regrets, not that kind of fake apology that you give to the person you fought with in middle school, a sincere one. She quickly wiped the single tear away, to keep up her appearance and continued.

_Anyway, Ram is way to low for her._

Veronica paused the recording for a moment and one single thought was running in her mind. What the fuck! Was Heather a good person? Certainly not! But these videos were starting to prove that she wished to be one.

She restarted the videotape, once again.

_And God, I hate the new kid. The Jesse James wannabe. He pulled out a gun in a school cafeteria! He could have killed Kurt and Ram, and even though I hate them, it’s horrible._

She already knew Heather disapproved JD because of that stunt, but she didn’t know she would be angry enough to even record herself ranting about it.

_And the worst is, Veronica was drooling over him. What the heck? What does that worm in a trench coat have more than me? He should have pulled the gun on her, she would have been scared enough to never want to approach him ever again._

Heather was jealous, jealous of Jason Dean, the guy who literally murdered her! Because she, Veronica Sawyer, has a crush on him. She had never interpreted Heather’s anger toward her after she talked to him with jealousy but now it was clear. The blonde reached for the button again, not after another exasperated sigh and the image shifted again.

Heather was as disheveled as ever and if Veronica hadn’t known it was her, she almost wouldn’t had recognized the “perfect” Heather Chandler.

_Hi, it’s Heather, obviously and I feel terrible. Like, not sick from all the alcohol I just ingested at that stupid ass party, more like, inside._

Sawyer recognized the outfit Heather wore on the night of the infamous Remington party, but Heather wasn’t drunk at the end of it, at least not as much as on the screen. Did she drank more at home?

_Am I deranged? I’m purposefully mean and evil to everyone I ever meet, except the frat boys I need to sleep with. I’m even terrible to my best friend. She must hate me, doesn’t she? It was only puke and I just insulted her like that._

Heather was talking about her, her, not Heather or Heather. Her. She was Heather’s best friend.

_Crucify her, what the fuck was that?! It was even worst than the bone structure one! She will hate me forever, congratulations you blew away all the chances you had!_

The sarcasm was directed at herself, and Veronica saw the despair in her eyes.

_I got her into a Remington party, and she got me a chance to get out and never have to go back again and that how I thanked her? By saying she will be a loser below loser on Monday? Lets face it, I’d never be able to do that._

Veronica wouldn’t have been kicked out, even the reason of Heather’s murder was completely useless. A pang of shame twisted into her stomach again, accompanied by so much sadness and pain.

She let the tears flow as Heather pronounced the final words of the recording.

_I, I love her, for real, more than I will ever love anyone in this world, more than I will ever love myself._

Veronica was Heather’s crush, after all, this time, despite all that had happened, despite the barriers that had pulled them apart since the beginning. Veronica wept and bailed as the screen turned black, and she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

Was she guilty that she had killed, the high school queen,no.

Her best friend, yes, maybe a bit, but the feeling was deeper than that.

As she finally managed to get herself almost back together, she realized.

Oh

_Oh_

There it was, a buried feeling, hidden under layers after layers of denial, fear, shame and hate. She had loved Heather Chandler.

No.

She loved Heather Chandler.

And she was responsible for what killed her, that fateful morning after the Remington party.

She loved her, and now she lost her.

Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Author notes: this thing hurts me deeply, it’s so, so very sad and I apologize if you ruined the thing you were using to read it with your tears, I know I ruined mine while writing it. 
> 
> Chansaw is one of my favorite ship and this is my first work in this fandom, so I hope you enjoyed it, despite the tears.
> 
> Gmorning/g’night and toodles! 
> 
> @postfrom1776
> 
> Word count: 2020 (lol)


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